A place to ramble and maybe make some sense about a thing or two.

O.M.G, people!! What is up with all the 50 Shades crap? I’ve seen people going on-and-on about how awful it is, how wonderful it is, how freeing it is, how humiliating it is, etc. ad nauseum. Some are trying to put together secret viewing groups so that they and their friends can go see the movie but not be recognized by *gasp!* someone who’s opinion of them matters more than any enjoyment or disgusting feelings they’ll get from admitting they actually went to see it or read the books. Then there are those who are shouting from the mountaintops that the movie is a glorification of abuse and such sin that no one has seen in millennia and basically that they and the generations of children that follow them will all be permanently scarred. Every now and then, I see a post or an article from someone who just wants to have fun and watch a mindless movie without being judged.

Here’s my take on this (just in case you were wondering). There’s a fabulous line in the movie Sunset Boulevard that states “It’s fun to see just how bad bad writing can be.” It was with that in mind that last year I read the 50 Shades series. “Bad” is putting it mildly. Not “bad” as in evil, disgusting, sinful, whatever you define it. It’s “bad” as in the author has no real concept of how to complete proper sentence structure and people like me would find themselves more concerned over correcting grammar than being able to “get into” a story line. And if you’re looking for a plot you’re definitely in the wrong place. Yes, there is a storyline to follow, but no real depth or intrigue to keep a reader from putting the book down or, say, start a bonfire with it. I have the electronic versions so the fire was, unfortunately, out of the question without losing a nice piece of technology.

As for the movie, I’ll probably watch it sometime. Like when it comes on one of the streaming services where I don’t have to pay for it. Because bad writing should only have to be paid for once. And I think that’s something people are forgetting about the movie — many of the sales of the books were because someone heard someone else talk about it or they were just curious and bought it. The huge numbers of sales does not necessarily mean that everyone who bought it liked it. Large sales doesn’t not actually mean success. And the actors in the movie probably never read the books before auditioning. Why? Because they don’t have time and need a job. When you’re always looking for work, sometimes it doesn’t matter what you’re doing — it’s a paycheck and a way to advance your career. You’d rather be doing that than living hand-to-mouth for another year hoping you can become “Oh no, we can’t afford cable” broke instead of “Oh no, we can’t afford food” broke.

Plus, it’s an R-rated movie, not NC-17 or AO or X or any of the other “horrible” ratings. If you’re willing to see an R-rated horror movie, sci-fi, drama, or comedy then what’s the difference? Just because the characters in the book do WAY more than you’d be able to see in an R-rated movie doesn’t mean I’ll go blind from seeing it. Guess what? There’s still pornographic movies being made! Real ones! Yeah! And don’t act like that’s an alien concept — I’ve personally found the people who usually vehemently deny EVER watching an X-rated movie or reading a nudie magazine are the ones who own more of them than anyone else in the room. If I was looking for something to titillate or scandalize myself or my friends, the Internet and adult book/video stores are filled with more examples than you can imagine. And if you can imagine it, it’s probably already on video.

This isn’t a slam against those who feel that they shouldn’t watch the movie or read the books because of their religious background, moral leanings, or anything else. It is, however, more of a “please-quit-telling-people-how-to-live-their-lives” posting. If I’m over 21 (or 18 in areas where that’s the age of majority) I can make my own decisions. Yes, I respect your opinions just so long as you respect mine. No amount of bashing people upside the head with fears that the whole world will come to an end if some guy gets a minor erection or a woman begins to fantasize about being blindfolded by her lover during the showing of this movie is going to really change any minds. And, yes, I know there’s more than that in the books. Remember, I actually read them. And I’m still here. And nothing has changed.

So, if you want to see the movie, go see it. If you don’t, then don’t. How much simpler can it be?

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for this blog. True, I’ve not blogged in ages. So much for my goal….but the ADD kicked-in and I got bored. However, it’s still open and I can blog when I want to now! Yay for loopholes!!!

Here’s an excerpt:

600 people reached the top of Mt. Everest in 2012. This blog got about 7,600 views in 2012. If every person who reached the top of Mt. Everest viewed this blog, it would have taken 13 years to get that many views.

No, I haven’t been posting the past few days. Even my therapist got upset at me because I’ve not been writing.

When you’re in a funk, you can’t write. You can’t do anything but sit and spin your wheels which just causes more frustration over how you’re not going anywhere in your life.

I can end up waiting up to six months for someone to do something about my ERO/EEOC claim because that’s the law. Even though I now can’t work doing the job I had because some idiot decided he wanted to make the rules instead of following the law, I have to wait for the legal process to take its course.

I’ve applied for so many jobs in the local area I’ve completely lost count. And have I heard anything back? Nope. Or when I go somewhere thinking I might like to apply and I can already see in their faces the fact that they’re not thrilled over my 86-pound constant companion, I don’t bother. Besides, I’d rather have her with me everyday than the crap that can happen at most places.

Got news about a family member who’s going through some tough times. I want to be able to help and give support but I also don’t want to be intrusive. I remember when I was in a somewhat similar situation and the last thing I wanted was pity from anyone and I usually got a lot of unsolicited advice that didn’t do me much good. I don’t want to be one of those kinds of people.

One of my friends was to get married tomorrow and her fiancé left her today. She and her young daughter who had opened their home and lives to him and his excuse is because his biological son is afraid of having to make new friends when he moves. What a jerk.

I’m trying to help celebrate Youngest Son’s upcoming birthday. I went to the movies with Husband, Youngest Son, and four of his friends. They had a great time and I was really glad they could go. I just feel like I wish we could have done more.

Husband and Youngest Son are currently in the basement doing laundry and playing a computer game. I sincerely appreciate that they’re doing the laundry because that means I don’t have to do it and I don’t have to go outside to get to the basement. It’s not a “finished” basement like many people have. It has a floor and walls, but there’s no way to access it from inside the house. And with the heat the way it is, I’m not in the mood to go outside much.

And, yes, Depressive is trying to get me to post but I’m so sick and tired of being sick and tired that it’s just been easier to do nothing and sleep instead of trying to come up with something to write and crying while I feel awful.

Maybe I’ll get back on a schedule. Maybe I’ll stop writing completely. I’ve already told my therapist that I’m not writing anymore at the moment about my past because I’m getting to big areas that I don’t really remember. There are a lot of blank spaces in my memory — some last days, some last years — and whatever is hidden inside them I do not want to bring back to the surface. It wouldn’t be healing; it would be reopening the wounds that my brain has found a way to deal with that doesn’t cause me any additional damage. I remember trying to deal with them and it didn’t work then. Time does not heal all wounds.

This is driving me crazy!! Here it is summertime and I don’t have squat to post because my life seems to be in a perpetual holding pattern because of my ERO/EEOC case and the fact that nothing interesting has happened recently. I’m also not in the mood to continue my biography at the moment because we’re getting to the parts that were really difficult to live through back then. I’m not sure I want to bring them up to the surface again now.

I am finding it very interesting looking at the map that shows from where people who read my blog are. The other day Australia took the lead. So far today the Irish have a substantial lead over the Americans. And what people are reading is even funnier. My reviews of Combat Cash and Mythbusters seem to be the favorites. Someone clicks on them almost every day.

So, yeah, I’m behind in my posting. But when it’s hot and sticky outside and it makes the house all hot and sticky, the last thing I want to do is sit in front of the computer in the hottest room of my house and type some drivel that people may or may not read. I’ve also got an appointment with my therapist today, so who knows what goofy crap will come up that will make for decent topics?

Oh….well….yeah…. That is a sort of stupid title since I do have to post something so people can see it.

Doesn’t matter. I spent yesterday which, which was Fathers’ Day here in America, with Husband and Youngest Son and didn’t feel the need to post. Plus, my biological father is a complete and total waste of air that could be used for something productive. Like horrible balloon-animal thingys that clowns make. He’s refused to acknowledge that I exist in over 20 years so *pppbbhhhtt* on him!

And today is a slow day at best. I’m not complaining. I could use a nice slow day to be able to relax and think about things that have been and will be happening. Plus, I’m making sure that Youngest Son is completing his chores and assignments as expected. In the past I was always deployed away from home in the summer and he could get away with not doing things because by the time Husband got home from work he’d be too tired to notice something skipped. Youngest Son and I have had a little talk about needing to mature and learning to do things around the house that will help him when he’s out on his own in the future.

I might post again tonight and I might not. The voices are arguing over who should write, about what should be written, and whether it’s worth writing anything at all now. I have to remind them that this whole thing was their idea so they can’t jump-ship on me now. Only six months to go with this project and now they realize it’s not as easy as I told them it would be.

And now if you’ll excuse me…. I have to dislodge the family cat from the only air duct in the room and she’s hogging all of the cool air conditioning. It’s hard to write when you’re wiping sweat (and cat fur) out of your eyes.

I’ve been cruising the Facebook pages of some of my friends from where I used to work and it seems like the majority of them have been complaining about the new process to reapply for their jobs. Supposedly it’s taking them a long, long time to get through all of the screens of questions they have to answer. Some are also complaining about the difficulty in uploading documents that are required for reapplication. Many are complaining about how the salaries for what they’ve been doing for so many years is much, much less than they would consider working for today but they’re glad their salaries will be grandfathered in when the transition is over.

Me? I’m still waiting to hear about my formal ERO complaint. Still very upset over what happened and that the person who violated my right to work and discriminated against me had the gall to admit it to an ERO counselor. And I’ve filed complaints with the Department of Justice and the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission. Just trying to cover all of my bases.

But, time will tell. Sooner or later they have to acknowledge the filing of the complaint and they have to do something about it. The ball is in their court now. I’m just going to wait and see if they’re going to do the right thing.

I know. It’s my own fault. Was planning to cook dinner for the family tonight. But, a tempting email came through the inbox and I just couldn’t help myself.

Domino’s Pizza offering 50% off any pizza if you order online now through Sunday night.

I remember when Domino’s Pizza was called the “Disk of Death” and other not-too-polite names. Domino’s was awful. Didn’t matter which one you ordered from — you were guaranteed a round thing resembling a crust with something on the top that you hoped was what you actually ordered, covered in a slime of cheese and floating on what grease hadn’t already soaked through the bottom of the box.

Now, however, they’ve gotten a lot better. And healthier, if you can consider pizza healthy.

So, each of us decided to order a pizza since they were so cheap. Youngest Son got a pepperoni abomination of some sort that could clog your arteries just by looking at the amount of meat and grease on it. Husband made up a pizza he would like to have because nothing on the menu ever totally agrees with his middle-age tummy anymore. And I ordered a Hawaiian pizza because I love ham and pineapple together. We each made sure to get the super-thin crust pizzas so we wouldn’t feel nauseated for the next few days. And by each ordering to our own tastes, we could ensure that we got what we wanted. We each got enough of what we wanted and if there was any leftover it could be stored in the refrigerator for lunch tomorrow.

Yeah….right….

Only Youngest Son, who normally scarfs down anything not nailed to the table, didn’t finish his. Husband and I both ate ourselves silly and soon realized we had none left for tomorrow. It was good, though. We both were very pleased with our selections and they were well-made and tasted excellent.

It’s just now, about five hours after eating it that the bloaty-ness sinks in….or out….or whatever it does. It’s hot and humid outside and having not listened to my brain when it was trying to tell me that my stomach might actually have a message for me other than “Aren’t you going to eat the rest of that?” is the result I’m suffering now. I don’t want to see another pizza for a while. I don’t even want to look at the boxes ours came in tonight. They’re like little talismans of shame to remind us of our sins.

I think I’ll have some milk and go to bed. Maybe I’ll wake up and it’s all a bad dream. Or, more likely, I’ll have pizza-dreams all night (the really weird ones about which every therapist hopes to sell a best-selling book) and wake up even hungrier than usual in the morning.

Oh, the 1980s. When not everyone could have cable television and even if you did, you didn’t have 800+ channels of crap from which to choose your evening’s entertainment. Back then, people actually made plans around their favorite television shows. Well, unless they were wealthy enough to own a VHS or BETA video recording machine to record a show for them, commercials and all. No DVRs. No commercial skips. Watch it when it airs or wait until rerun season and hope the episode you missed is there.

I had to explain all of that to Youngest Son tonight as Husband sat on the couch (and for over an hour did NOT fall asleep!) and watched the new series of Dallas on TNT. He was a big fan of the show back in the 1980s and wanted to see how stupid….I mean….good the modernized show would be. Of course, when you get the old actors on there playing their old roles, you can’t help but remember what the show used to be and wonder if they can actually get it to be that good (or bad) again.

Now, I didn’t watch Dallas when it was on in the 1980s. The only episodes I ever watched were when J.R. was shot (because, who didn’t watch that one?) and the one when Southfork burned. That episode I was somewhat sort-of forced to watch because I was at a sleepover at a friend’s house and all of the other girls lovedDallas but I had no idea who anyone was other than J.R. and Bobby. Oh, and I did see the episode when Bobby comes back in the shower — but that was a rerun many, many years after it originally aired.

So, I’m watching the show with Husband and it’s as goofy as ever. Youngest Son asked, “Is this a male soap opera?”

Yes, Son. Yes it is.

Nighttime soap operas like Dallas, Dynasty, and Falcon Crest were heavily watched by women but they were designed to get the men-folk into the sittin’ room to watch as well. They weren’t as silly as the daytime soaps, but you still knew that every scene had to have someone looking off into the distance as if they’re thinking, “Did that cat pee in the litterbox?” (it’s an acting trick) while the camera either gets closer or pulls back before the scene changes. Or before a commercial came on. Or before another ad for the same show you were watching came on to preview the next week’s episode. As if you’d miss it….

So, yeah, I’m not particularly thrilled with the new version of the old show. I liked how they tried to keep the intro credits the same with the music and scenes of Dallas (Texas). But, a neat intro does not a great show make. I might give it a few more episodes before I totally write it off as a bad job. Seeing Larry Hagman and Patrick Duffy talking about what Miss Ellie did or didn’t want with her will is still interesting. Goofy, but interesting.

I know there’s nothing wrong ’cause I just had an MRI a little over a month ago and just the brain is up there like it’s supposed to be. But all weekend I’ve been having migraines & thought I’d finally kicked it.

Nope. Tonight just after I watched a show I wanted to see on television the stupid headache came right back.

Another night with ice on my head. And a washcloth on my eyes ’cause they’re hurting too. Maybe I should just ask the rest of the body to start adding their aches and pains to the pile tonight. Get it all over with in one shot.